


The Darkest Hour

by hannahwrites89



Category: The Good Wife (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:35:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahwrites89/pseuds/hannahwrites89
Summary: A post 5x15 story where Will (of course) survives the shooting. This story explores the aftermath of that, where Alicia quickly realises what is most important in her life, but Will struggles with the difficult road to recovery.
Relationships: Alicia Florrick/Will Gardner, Will Gardner/Diane Lockhart
Comments: 12
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Yep, I'm doing this. Starting a new multi-chapter story. I've been thinking for a long time how I would have loved to see 5x15 and furhter play out, this is my take on it. Needless to say, Will lives.

**The Darkest Hour**

**Prologue**

_"…This is good weed, I want more of this, where can I get more of this…"_

Wondering what on earth she signed up for, Alicia exchanges a meaningful look with Eli, whose facial expression speaks volumes, too.

_…"But I got bad joints, I need medical marihuana now…"_

But Alicia turns back around and continues to hand out polite smiles. God forbid the released photos of todays correspondence luncheon would show the Governor's wife with a disapproving stare on her face. Eli certainly wouldn't like that. So she keeps the discontent to herself and simply drinks her wine.

Alicia knows exactly what is expected of her during this appearance. She's perfected her act over the years: each situation asks for a different set of characteristics to be displayed. Sometimes it's modesty, playing the caring and thoughtful mother who willingly lets her husband take the lead. Other times it's about showing she's much more than that. That she's an established lawyer who can stand up for herself and, if needed, defend her husband.

_"…Alicia Florrick, she's a good sport, imagine if the governor got a little high and talked to his wife, he'd be like honeyyy, I'm stooooned…"_

Her name being mentioned startles her, but only for a second, because she knows she has this under control. So she laughs again, and makes sure that the cameras in the back of the room catch it too. Peter can thank her later.

Her marriage to Peter Florrick was slowly turning into a political one. Alicia wasn't fully ready to admit that yet, but deep down, she knew. After the first scandal, she had worked hard to outweigh the disgrace and weakness attached to her last name. But over the years, that last name had turned into an actual advantage, bringing her first name billing at her own firm. Peter had become an asset to her just as much as she had always been an asset to Peter. It's a complex one, this marriage. But there's still love for him too. It might not be the passionate, _I'll do anything for you,_ type of love - not anymore - but it is one with a long history and of mutual respect. So, in the end, Alicia remains convinced that she's made the right decision to stand by his side. Even though that decision came with consequences.

Nonetheless, she's satisfied with how her life has been playing out recently. Not to say it's perfect, because it sure as hell isn't. The list of issues is endless. Whenever one seems to resolve itself, another one pops up: Nelson Dubeck showing up at her firm this afternoon, the struggles within her marriage - there's no instruction manual for a strategic marriage - or the continuous doubt in her mind whether starting her own firm has brought her what she wanted. And of course, entwined through all of the above is, and will always be, Will Gardner.

But even with him, perhaps the biggest, ever lingering _what if_ in her heart, Alicia feels that she's in a good place. Now that the two of them had grown into each others competitors, their dynamic had changed. Will's longing and hopeful stares used to catch her off guard. They would always make her heart break into a thousand pieces and force her to reconsider every decision she had ever made. But those stares have now been replaced by cold and suspicious looks. And even though, admittedly, she missed the connection they once had, the detachment had also given them space to breathe and be their own person. And having said that, it wasn't only about competition or hatred between the two of them. Recently, there had been a few moments where that connection had somehow reignited, where some space for lightheartedness would suddenly reappear. Just yesterday, outside of Jeffrey Grant's trial, they shared a moment that made her walk out of the court house with a smile on her face. It was fun to explore this new, undefined, territory between them. And even though she can't deny she sometimes longes for more, their new dynamic has brought some much needed calm and clarity in her life. It had made Alicia finally feel alive in this very world, rather than being stuck in a fantasy that would never materialise.

_"…And I would like to introduce to you right now, the first lady of Illinois…"_

Alicia takes the stand and delivers her speech. Flawlessly, as she predicted, with just the right amount of charm and wit. It's thrilling to sense the respect and attention she receives from her audience. A feeling she could get used to. As she stands there, Peter walks in the room. He catches her attention and gives her an encouraging nod. She lovingly smiles in return, and continues playing her part.

But here's what she doesn't know.

On the other side of town, while Alicia's busy being the Governor's wife, Will is bleeding out on the cold floor of the court house.

* * *

This is why Will Gardner loves what he does. And more importantly, why Kalinda can't leave the firm. Will certainly hopes it's really nothing more than playing hard to get. He needs her, the firm needs her, and it's because of her thoroughness and his perseverance that they make such a good team.

And he's certain that today, that magical combination will make them win this case. Because Will remains convinced that Jeffrey Grant is innocent, blatantly ignoring the serious doubts that both Kalinda and Diane had - repeatedly - expressed. Except last night. After coming home from a few drinks with Kalinda, Will couldn't get himself to fall asleep. Twisting and turning in bed, he suddenly doubted whether or not he was on the right track. But he was unable to pinpoint the reason for the knot in his stomach, or for questioning his own strategy, so he decided that it was nothing. He stopped mulling over it, closed his eyes and fell asleep. He's not the type of person to lay awake all night, simply because it's inefficient and doesn't get you anywhere. It's one of Will's many talents: being able to push away emotions or gut feelings whenever they come up at an inconvenient time. Then again, it was also one of his biggest weaknesses. Will would soon learn that this time, the gut feeling was there for a reason. And that he should have listened.

But right now, Will has decided to believe that the poor kid had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. And thanks to the truly excellent work that Kalinda had done, the paramedics will testify in a matter of hours, enabling Will to present a strong case and with that, successfully sway the jury. So that's why Will approaches the bench and is able to introduce his new piece of evidence. Finn Polmar scoffs at his announcement and mutters a _dramatics, your honour,_ but Will continues to persuade the judge to allow it.

Unfortunately, they will never be able to finish their discussion at the bench. Because Jeffrey's eye fell on the bailiff's gun belt. Will doesn't know that, but he does suddenly see the eyes of judge Politi grow wide, followed by a muffled scream and then gasps from those behind him. Before he can turn around to see what's happening, a loud, sharp _bang_ fills the room.

The witness on the stand gets shot.

A shockwave goes through the courtroom. People scream and duck behind the benches. The sudden chaos and panic is a sharp contrast to the silence from a minute ago.

"Get down!" Finn shouts but all Will does is turning to where the shot is coming from. He's stares straight at his own client.

Jeffrey is holding a gun with both his hands.

Will sees the panic in his eyes as he waves the gun around. Watching him like that feels like an endless moment, but in reality it takes less than two seconds.

Will tries to understand what's going on. _Where did he get that goddamn gun,_ he thinks and scans the room, but it all takes too long because Jeffrey shoots again, and in that same instant, Will falls to the floor, his head hitting the cold floor as he collapses.

He senses an odd feeling in his neck, tries to feel where it's coming from and then sees his own hand, full of blood. _He shot me. Jeffrey shot me,_ Will thinks to himself as he lays there, face down on the courtroom floor. He doesn't feel pain straight away. The rush of adrenaline keeps him focused.

He hears more shots and glass breaking. But Will can't see what's going on. He's just laying there with his left cheek pressed on the floor, powerless.

"OK, we have to go," he hears behind him and he realises it's Finn. He tries to hold on to his arm as he starts pulling him away, but he's starting to lose strength. His eyes see the floor gliding away underneath him, red smears everywhere. Is all of that his blood?

Will can tell that he's been turned to lay on his back, his head now resting on what he thinks is Finn's leg.

"Stay still," Finn says, soft but insistent.

Will tries to look up to him, but he can't see his face. He feels his hand putting pressure on his neck.

Another gunshot fills the room. _Holy shit what is happening._ Suddenly, a rush of fear comes over him. He tries to find Finn's hand with his. As soon as their fingers interlock, it brings tears to Will's eyes. He's scared. What is happening to him? Is he bleeding out?

"Are you all right?" Finn again.

Will wants to answer that yes, he's OK - not because he is, but because he doesn't know what else to say - but he can't seem to speak. It makes him even more scared. Why is he unable to talk?

There's no time to think about it, because more shots are being fired and he hears, what he thinks, is police burst in.

Slowly, the sounds begin to draw out and some sort of beeping sound starts taking over. He hears another bang. Will does his best to stay alert, but he realises that he's unable to fully process what's happening around him.

Then suddenly, everything turns dead quiet.

Will keeps blinking in an attempt to stay awake. He tries hard to focus on the bright lights in the ceiling of the courtroom. He hears his name, a sharp voice that he knows. And then, it's suddenly the face of Kalinda that stares at him. The brightness of the ceiling lights behind her. She looks like an angel. Is this real?

"Paramedics!" she shrieks.

It's the last thing Will registers. It feels good to see her, it makes him feel safe. He's safe now, right?

 _This should be over soon_ , he tells himself. Then everything turns black.


	2. Part I

**The Darkest Hour**

**Part I**

_Hold tight, you're slowly coming back to life  
_ _I'll be keeping your head up  
_ _I'll be keeping your head up, darling_

Birdy - Keeping Your Head Up

If you'd pass by Diane Lockhart in the hallways of the hospital, you certainly wouldn't be able to tell just how lost and scared she's feeling. So very scared for Will and what just happened to him. The image of Will being wheeled out of the courthouse keeps replaying in her head. The sight of his pale face and limp body made her stomach turn. He didn't look like himself. They'd taken Kalinda's car to follow the ambulance that was taking Will to the Chicago General. The two of them didn't speak. Diane just sat there, next to Kalinda in the passengers seat, her hands clenched in her lap, not allowing herself to think. But whether that was ten minutes or two hours ago, Diane wouldn't know. Her sense of time is gone.

She's been standing here, walking back and forth to the reception desk, trying to get updates. No one tells her anything. It frustrates her that everyone around her seems so calm and unimpressed. As if they don't know that her partner, her best friend, got shot in the neck and needs all the help he can get. She's not in control of the situation and that's something she isn't used to. Diane closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Her breathing is quick and superficial, it'ss making her feel light headed. She places her hand on her heart and tries to control her breathing. _He's in good hands, he's in good hands,_ she keeps repeating to herself.

"They've taken him up to surgery," Kalinda's voice makes her eyes flutter open. "Here, drink something," she hands her a paper cup with water.

"Did they say anything else?"

Kalinda looks at her and remains quiet, lips pressed together.

"Did they?"

"His situation is critical," she answers. "They say…" she pauses for a moment, because she has a hard time repeating the words of the doctor she just spoke to. "...that they're doing everything they can." There's a look of grief and compassion in her eyes that Diane has never seen before.

"That's not good," Diane sighs and looks up the ceiling.

Kalinda decides not to answer that. She was the one who found Will about an hour ago. She's seen the amount of blood that was seeping out his neck and drowning his shirt. And she saw the look in his eyes before he slipped into unconsciousness. To be blunt, she saw the eyes of a dead man. Now, Kalinda is a sworn pessimist. It's a tactic that has proven itself to be very effective throughout her life, a safety net that prevents her from ever being disappointed. Trust nobody, don't hope for anything and never let your guard down. She's desperately trying to keep that up right now, so that the blow of finding out Will is dead will not hit her as hard. But it's a brutal thought, that Will is not surviving this. She feels that it's unfair towards him to think that way. Kalinda doesn't believe in God, she never has, but right now, she feels like she owes it to Will to hope and pray for his survival. So this time, Kalinda tries to not expect the worst. After all, hope is all they have at this point.

"We need to call his family," she decides to say.

"His sisters," Diane nods.

"I will." She steps away from Diane and gets out her phone.

Diane still stands there with her one hand pressed on her chest. _Alicia_ , she thinks. She needs to call Alicia.

* * *

Alicia managed to get away from the luncheon. Earlier than Eli had hoped, but she has a perfectly good excuse; she needs to go back to work. Candace's disposition is scheduled in less than half an hour. It's an important case to both her and Cary. Being one of the clients they successfully poached from Lockhart/Gardner, there's an extra competitiveness within the two of them to show her they are up for it. As she drives through Chicago's city centre, she sees her phone screen light up. Diane's calling her.

 _This must be about Candace,_ she thinks and answers with a reluctant "Diane, hi?"

"Alicia. Where are you?"

"On my may way to my office, why?" Alicia passes an orange traffic light, but decides to quickly pull through. No time to waste this afternoon.

"Are you driving?"

"Yes, can you hear me OK?"

"I… Yes. I can hear you. Could you pull over?

"Pull over? Why?" Alicia looks at the clock on her dashboard. She really needs to hurry up. "Sorry, can I call you back later? I really have to-."

"Please," Diane cuts her off. "Could you stop the car?"

Something in the way Diane asks her that tells Alicia something's wrong. But what on earth could be so important? A bit annoyed, she pulls over to the side of the road.

"Diane, what's wrong?" She asks, now somewhat concerned but still mostly eager to get this conversation over with. She doesn't have time for this.

She hears Diane sigh deeply on the other end of the line. "It's about Will."

"Will?"

"He's… he's been shot."

"He got… wait, _what_?" Alicia's convinced she misunderstood.

"There was a shooting in the court house," Diane says as calmly as possible, trying to get through to her. "Will got shot during his trial."

Alicia's heart drops. _That's impossible,_ she thinks to herself. _I just saw him yesterday._ "I…," she stutters but she's unable to find words. "…Where are you?"

"Chicago General. He's in surgery right now."

"But he… is he going to be OK?"

"He's not doing well," Diane answers softly. "Alicia," and the way Diane says her name, with a deep sadness and an almost motherly tone, makes her eyes well up with tears. "The bullet hit his neck. He's in critical condition…"

As Alicia listens to what Diane is saying, every single word hits her loud and clear. It's nauseating.

"…I'm so sorry," Diane continues, tears in her eyes as well, feeling so much pain having to tell Alicia that Will's chances of survival are slim. "They're doing everything they can," but as she hears herself say it, she knows how worthless it is.

Alicia covers her mouth in shock, gasping for air. Her mind goes back to when she saw Will standing outside the courtroom yesterday, smiling at her, but then she sees him furiously shoving her things of her desk, yelling in her face that she was poison to his firm. She thinks about how he always looked so deeply in her eyes before he kissed her. The way it felt to lay in his arms, the jokes they made, and how he would always throw a quick smile at her whenever they saw each other at work.

"I'll call you back as soon as we know more," Diane says softly. "We're calling his sisters, too. Alicia, are you still there?"

She clears her throat. "Yes. I just…"

"I know. I… I don't know what to say. I'll call you back."

"Ok," Alicia mumbles.

The line disconnects.

Alicia stares at her phone. Her fingertips are trembling now. She doesn't know what to do, or where to look. All the thoughts that she was having just a minute ago seem to have vanished from her mind. Her successful speech, the meeting she's about to have with Cary, it all seems to have lost his purpose. It's as if someone pressed a reset button and she has to start over, with no direction of what to do or where to go. So Alicia sits there. Silently staring through the windshield of her car, observing a world where everything seems to continue as if nothing has changed. But Alicia's world has been turned upside down. There are no tears streaming down her cheeks. Not yet. Because it's just too much to take in, because she can't fully comprehend what it means what Diane just told her. Or perhaps she can, but she doesn't dare to. Letting her mind accept that Will might… that Will is… that he might not…

The loud noise of a honking car startles Alicia. She's blocking an entry way, she realises. Startled, she starts the car and drives back up the road.

* * *

Alicia barely remembers how she made her way to the parking lot of Chicago General, but apparently she did. And now she's sitting there, behind the steering wheel still, staring at the massive building in front of her. Her eyes continuously wander over the many rows of square windows that cover the building. Some seem dark, others have bright, bleak hospital lights showing through the curtains. _He's in there,_ she keeps thinking. _Will's in there somewhere._ She can't shake off the idea of his naked body underneath blue sheets, covered in wires on a cold, metal table. In her head, she can hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping slowly and steadily. But what if it stops? What if it stops and they can't save him? What if he dies? What if he already died but she just doesn't know it yet?

Perhaps she should go in. Isn't that why she drove all this way in the first place? A part of her wants to. To run in, yell at the reception where they have taken Will Gardner, find him, hold him and tell him that she's sorry, so very sorry and to please, stay with her.

But yet, Alicia hasn't moved. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, she just feels lost. So utterly lost. Because she's not supposed to do any of that. She's not supposed to ask where _her_ Will is. Because he isn't hers. She didn't want him to be. She distanced herself from him. She _chose_ that. And now it feels wrong to walk in that hospital. She can't get herself to move. So she just stays there.

What if she would go in, who would she be anyway? His ex-lover? You don't wait for someone to come out of lifesaving surgery, or sit at someone's death bed, if that's all you are. And she had been telling herself, for over two years, that that's all she was. But of course, she's much more than that. Or at least, _he_ is more to _her_ than that. She realises that now. No, she knew before, but she only _allows_ herself to realise that know. She's known it for years. Decades, even. But now, so much time has past and so much hurting has been done that Alicia doesn't know if it's - still - mutual.

Will is fighting for his life in there. And she should be with him. She needs to see him. To stand in that waiting room as the surgeons come out, to sit by his bedside for hours or days and to be there when he opens his eyes. And to tell him that everything will be all right, and that's he's strong, and that they'll work everything out together. He needs to pull through. She needs him to pull through. _They're doing everything they can,_ is still fresh in her mind. She has to believe that it's true, because otherwise she's convinced she'll go crazy. But what if it's not enough? What if he bleeds out? Alicia gasps for air, and only then notices she's been panting out of pure distress and anxiety. It's making her feel light headed.

She breathes in deeply, closes her eyes for a second and tries to think of something stares at the people coming and going through the hospital doors. Patients, families, people in wheelchairs, some of them smoking just outside the entrance. Alicia thinks of Will's sisters, who she never met but who might be walking through those doors this very minute. About Diane and Kalinda, who are somewhere in there. And about herself, and why she doesn't dare to get up and go in. But she really can't. It's as if she's nailed to the driver's seat and there's nothing she can do.

Her phone rings. Cary. _The deposition,_ she realises. _Shit._

"Hi," she answers with a flat voice.

"Alicia, where are you?" Cary asks agitated. "What are you doing? The deposition is now, we have to…"

"I'm… Cary, I'm at the hospital. We have to delay the deposition."

"The hospital? Are you… are you OK?"

"It's Will. He… Will has been shot." And it's saying it out loud for the first time that makes her feel sick to her stomach.

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know," Alicia simply replies defeated. Tears are stinging behind her eyes. "He was shot during his trial," she continues, without any emotion in her words. "I'll call you later, Cary. I'm sorry, I have to go now."

She hangs up and puts her phone on silence mode. She can't do it anymore. And then, as soon as she throws her phone on the seat next to her, the tears start coming in. They roll over her cheeks and drip in her neck, and she just cries and cries, her body shocking with each gasp of air between the tears because she's all alone in that parking lot, there's no one she can turn to and all she can think is _Will, don't die. Please, don't die._

* * *

Owen was on his way to friends when a news alert makes him look at his phone: _Breaking: Chicago courthouse shooting. 1 death confirmed, 2 severely wounded._ "Holy shit," he muttered and immediately tried calling her sister. She didn't pick up. He had no idea if she was in court that day, or if it was her court or courthouse - he never really understood how any of that worked - but he did know that she was working her ass off in her new firm and that she might as well have been in court that day. He called Alicia again, still no answer. _Jesus, what if something did happen to her,_ he thought to himself. Being only a few blocks away from her office, he decided to pass by her firm to check on her. There, he ran into Cary who told him that no, Alicia was fine, but that it was Will Gardner who had been shot, and that she was in the hospital with him. That was all he knew.

So Owen tries calling her a third time and finally, she picks up.

"Sis, where are you?" He asks immediately, getting back in his car. "I came by the firm to check on you, but Cary tells me it's…it's Will who got shot?

"Yes," is all Alicia says, and there's a hopelessness in his voice that he has never heard before.

"How is he doing?"

"I don't know," she replies in the same tone.

"But are you with him?"

"No," she mumbles. "I'm still in the parking lot."

"The parking lot? Why?"

 _"_ I… I can't get myself to go inside."

"Oh Alicia…," Owen sighs. "I'm gonna meet you there, OK? Stay put. Give me fifteen minutes." He hangs up and immediately starts driving.

* * *

When Owen opens the door of Alicia's car, he looks straight in the teary eyes of his devastated sister.

"I don't know what happened," she says to him and start sobbing as soon as he sits down next to her.

"Come here," Owen leans in and hugging her tight. "God, you're freezing. How long have you been sitting here?"

She pulls back and wipes the tears off her face "I don't know. I drove here as soon as I heard and…"

"You've been sitting her ever since? If you came all the way here, why don't you just go in?"

She shakes her head. "He doesn't want me there," she sniffs.

Owen looks at her and realises she might be right. Honestly, he doesn't fully understand the dynamics between those two, but he does know things haven't improved since she left Will's firm and took some of his clients with her.

"Look. If it was you in there, would you want him with you?"

She rolls her eyes, licks the tears of her lips and looks back at him, desperate almost. "I have no idea," she says in all honesty and she tries to push a smile over her lips but it's not very convincing.

Owen sighs. "Well, OK," he says and looks around the car, weighing his options. "But we're not doing this," he then says. "We're not going to sit here for hours on end, waiting for news. It will drive you crazy. We'll go for a ride. I'll drive. We'll… go have a coffee somewhere, and we will wait."

* * *

"You should eat something," Owen says and shoves the menu over to Alicia's side of the table. "It's almost eight."

"I'm not hungry," Alicia replies flatly, discarding the menu and pushing it straight back to Owen.

"Can't I seduce you to sharing pizza with me?"

She offers him a faint smile. "No, thanks."

"I'll only get you a glass of wine if you eat _something_."

That brings out a small laugh in her. "Are you bribing me with alcohol?"

"Is it working?"

She just rolls her eyes in response.

"Good," Owen grins and walks to the bar to order. Waiting for him to return, Alicia mindlessly scrolls through her phone. Two missed calls from Peter. One from Eli. She sighs deeply and puts her phone away. She can't deal with either of them right now.

"No news?" Owen asks as he comes back to the table, bringing two glasses of wine with him.

Alicia shakes her head. "Nothing…"

"OK well… that probably means they're still working on him."

"Maybe," she replies defeated and drinks her wine. "I should stop drinking," she says and puts the glass back down.

Owen looks at his sister. There's been a dark, empty look in her eyes that he has never seen before. In all honesty, it scares him a little. Alicia's not the type of person to be this lost, this broken. She's the one who comforts _him_ , whenever he's going to a bad break-up. It's rarely the other way around. And she always manages to rationalise whatever it is she's going through. But this is different.

"Does Peter know you're here?" He decides to ask.

"No."

He gives her a look. "Maybe you should go home."

She shakes her head. "I'm a mess. Peter won't understand."

"Of course he will," Owen tries, not even knowing why he's defending him at this point. Also, he barely believes his own words.

Alicia frowns at him. "No, he won't."

"Well, you can't hide here forever."

She doesn't respond to that. Her eyes wander off to the street outside the cafe window.

"Why don't you stay with me tonight?" Owen then proposes.

Alicia gives him a look he can't place.

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. We'll do that," he decides for her.

The look in her eyes softens. "Thank you," she whispers and she realises how lucky she is to have her brother with her now. After all, he's the only one who knows, at least to some extent, about her feelings for Will and he also knows her well enough to not start asking difficult questions.

* * *

An odd kind of calm had come over Diane that she isn't able to fully explain. She's very much aware that she could lose Will any minute, and she had kept imagining, almost rehearsing, the different situations in her head in which she had to inform people that Will had died. The partners, some of Will's friends, Kalinda (who was currently talking to the police about Jeffrey Grant, Diane simply couldn't wrap her head around the fact that their _client_ shot Will), their top clients, Alicia and most importantly: his sisters. Kalinda spoke to Aubrey about two hours ago, she should be here any minute.

Diane's hoping for the best, she really is, but at the same time, she's also preparing herself for the worst. It's the only sane thing to do, as she's sitting on the blue, plastic chairs in the dull waiting room on the OR floor. She's sitting upright, her hands resting in her lap, fingers intertwined, and she simply stares at the wall in front of her, covered in information posters about surgery and recovery. She has read them all six, seven times at least. But it gives her some needed distraction and grip, it's almost meditative, as she continues to sit and wait for news. And then, out of the blue, the doors to the hallway swing open and a man wearing scrubs makes his way over to her.

"Are you the family of William Gardner?"

Diane immediately gets up from her chair. "I'm… his friend, yes. His family is on the way."

"OK, good. Dr. Benton," he introduces himself and shakes her hand.

"Diane Lockhart. Do you have any news?"

"He pulled through," he nods.

"He did? Oh my God," Diane gasps relieved, covering her mouth in shock.

"Let's sit down," he says and sits down in the chair in front of her.

"Where is he?" Diane asks and sits back down as well.

"He's in the recovery room right now. He'll be moved to the ICU in about an hour or so."

She nods, encouraging him to continue.

"We were able to remove the bullet, but his internal carotid artery was hit. We've managed the control the bleeding for now. But gunshot wounds to the neck, like this one… More often than not, they're fatal. It's a severe injury, because of the high density of vital structures in the neck. I don't like to use the word _miracle_ , and I'm not going to, but it's not often we see these type of patients make it through surgery."

"He lost so much blood," Diane says, still in disbelief. "When I saw him, back in the court house, I thought he was already gone."

"Well, if that bullet had hit him ten millimetres differently, he would have bled out on the spot. He's been incredibly lucky."

"I can't believe it. Thank you."

"I do need to add that with these type of injuries, there are other, _major_ , complications that can still occur in the next 48 hours. We will monitor him closely, but the risk of internal bleeding and organ failure is… It's significant. So is the risk of infection. And in this specific case, there's also a risk of stroke…"

Diane tries to process everything the surgeon is telling her. Her relief from a minute ago is quickly pushed away by the long list of complications the surgeon is throwing at her.

"…I don't want to sound harsh, but I need to be fair with you. He's stable for now, but that doesn't mean he will pull through. The next 48 hours are crucial. What I mean to say this, if there's direct family, they should be here now."

* * *

"He's alive," is the first thing Diane says as soon as Alicia picks up the phone. She and Owen had just arrived in his apartment and are still standing in the entry way of his apartment. "Will's alive," she repeats to make sure she gets through to Alicia.

On the other side of the line, Alicia doesn't know how to respond immediately. _He's alive,_ she tells herself. _Will's still alive._ She closes her eyes and sees Will, walking up towards her. _"Don't look so worried, I'm fine,"_ he tells her with a smile on his face, straightening his jacket. _"Don't you see?"_

"Really?" Is all she manages to say in return, trying to shake off the image of a carefree Will.

"Yes. He made it through surgery."

Alicia doesn't hear the expected relief in Diane's voice. "So, how is he?" She asks concerned.

"It's difficult to say. His surgeon told me he's still at risk for internal bleeding, organ failure, he even mentioned stroke."

Alicia's heart sinks as she hears Diane sum up all the potential complications. "So, they are saying he could still…," she stops half-way, unable to say what she's fearing.

"I just saw him in the ICU," Diane interrupts her, simply because she can't have that conversation right now. "He's intubated and he… he looks nothing like himself," her voice full of distress. "His sister's with him now."

"Do you think I…-"

"I think you should come and see him," Diane cuts her off. Her tone is insistent. "You will regret it if you don't."

"Honestly Diane, I don't know if he'd want me there."

"Of course he does." Diane pauses for a second. "Alicia, he loves you. Please, come by tomorrow."

"I will," Alicia mumbles in return. "I'll call you tomorrow. Take care."

And the tears start coming back again. Alicia feels them welling up behind her eyes, trying to break free and wet her cheeks. She tries her hardest to fight them. To not collapse completely at Diane's words. Because they hurt. They hurt because, deep down, she knows it's the truth. She never wanted to hear it, she never wanted to acknowledge any of it. Because it was too much and there were other priorities she needed to pursue. Because it was too difficult and she chose to hide behind the complexities in her life that, in part, she herself had created. But one time, she told him _this is the happiest I've ever been._ And that was the truth, too.


	3. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post 5x15 story where Will (of course) survives the shooting. This story explores the aftermath of that, where Alicia quickly realises what is most important in her life, but Will struggles with the difficult road to recovery: "Your brother," Alicia says and takes a deep breath before she continues. "He means a lot to me," and her voice breaks as she says that.

**The Darkest Hour **

**Part II**

_"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"_

\- Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

"But did you guys talk at all lately?" Owen asks while Alicia pours them both a glass of wine.

"I saw him outside of court yesterday," she replies and sinks back down in the couch next to him.

"And?"

"Talked about a client, nothing else."

"Why not?"

"We're competitors," she shrugs. "We barely talk. And when we do, it's business."

"But you two did have some sort of… friendship, right? Before you left?"

Alicia thinks about how to answer that one, her mind taking her back to that moment when she and Will had met at the police station during the Shamrock dinner, now almost a year ago. He had looked so handsome in his tuxedo. Right in that moment when he walked in, she realised that she - still - loved him. That it wasn't an accident, that kiss a few weeks prior. That it was only a matter of time before it would happen again. But no matter how much the realisation that she was still in love with him saddened her, the events of that evening had shown her, once again, that there was just no way. She was linked to Peter and she wanted to be. She had made that decision right there. Looking back now, Alicia has a hard time understanding why it seemed the _right_ decision in that moment, but things were different back then. _We're keeping each other from moving on_ , she had told him that night. _It's past and I'm pretending that it's not._ Will tried to brush it off. Told her that they had _a residual something or other_ and that they were dealing with it. She said, whether she believed it or not, that whatever it was that was going on between them had to end. _Can you just decide that?_ He had asked her. And she had said that yes, she could. That she had to.

"I don't know what we had," she finally answers Owen. "I think I hoped that we could be, friends."

"But you couldn't?"

"We tried, but…it was getting messy."

"You mean you were secretly making out?" Owen says and gives her a look that makes her smile.

"Yep," she responds dryly and drinks her wine.

"So, can we finally establish that you did leave his firm because you were in love with him?"

Alicia lets out a deep sigh. "It was more complicated than that."

"I get it wasn't the _only_ reason. But did you really think that… whatever you two had, would just disappear?"

"Well, leaving like that definitely helped," Alicia responds cynically.

"How mad was he, exactly?"

Alicia throws him a look. "Livid."

"Oh-oh…," Owen smirks. "Was is that bad?"

She just nods in response. _God, you're awful,_ he had told her. _And you don't even know how awful you are._ In that moment, Alicia had realised that she wouldn't be easily forgiven. That perhaps he would never give her a second chance. The aversion in his voice, the disbelief in his eyes… Whatever it is they had left at that point, that kept them coming back together, was blown to pieces. And it was in that same moment that this enormous wave of regret came over her, one that would come and go like the tide but had never really disappeared. Not when she looked in his eyes.

"And you never talked about it?"

"Not really. A couple of weeks ago, he did say he doesn't _hate_ me."

"That's something."

Alicia cocks her brow in response and downs the last bit of her wine.

"You wanted him to say more?"

"I don't know.," she sighs. "To be fair, I can't seem to recall what I've ever wanted."

"Well… did you ever want to get back together with him?"

Another question she doesn't feel like answering. Her mind flashes back to the election night. How she told him then that the kiss they shared in the office weeks earlier had opened something up between them again. And that she didn't know how to close it. _And if we pursue it, it will just be like last time,_ she had told him. _What was last time?_ Will had asked her in return. _I don't know, it will be worse._ What on earth did she mean by that? She can't remember. She said that she couldn't figure her way out of it and it was all such _bullshit_. What if Will would have just started driving and he had taken her away from it all? Away from court, from the election, from Peter, from everything in her life that was holding her back. They would have talked, like he wanted, and they would have made a plan. Because of course, she could have figured it out. She _should_ have.

"Owen, I can't do this now," she finally says, snapping back from her thoughts. "I can't talk about this."

"I know," he replies and leans over to the coffee table to refill their glasses. "You never have."

Alicia rolls her eyes in response. "Can I get a pass this time Owen? Please? This is really not the time."

"Just explain to me, why is it so difficult for you to talk about him?" He tries again, knowing this is dangerous territory and she might as well get up from the couch, walk to the guest room and disappear for the rest of the night.

To his surprise, she doesn't. She stays put. Maybe she's too emotionally drained, or maybe she's finally giving in to him. He hands her another glass of wine, filled to the brim, and tries to make her look in his eyes.

"I get that it's difficult," he continues. "I do, really. But we both know you've been suppressing your feelings for him for what, decades? And that's exactly why you couldn't get yourself to go in that hospital this afternoon. Because you two never talked. Not _really_."

Alicia doesn't respond.

"Right?"

She shrugs, as if none of it really matters.

 _Never mind,_ Owen concludes slightly irritated and gets up from the couch to heat up some soup in the kitchen. Whenever he tries to talk to her about her feelings for Will, or any man, really, Alicia simply shuts down. It's nothing new, this has been going on for years. Even though the two of them used to be able to finish each others sentences growing up, when it comes down to Alicia's love life, not even her own brother is allowed to get full access to what's going on. Not that she needs her to spell it out for him. He's convinced that he knows how she feels, otherwise he wouldn't have - bravely - stepped in that elevator with Will to tell him that she was afraid of falling in love with him, and that her and Peter weren't set in stone. To his disappointment, it didn't make things any different. But at least it means that Will knows. Whether he liked to hear it or not, whether he was ever planning to act upon it or not, he knows. So whatever is going to happen to him in these coming days, if, God forbid, he's not going to make it, then at least _someone_ has told him that. As he's stirring the soup, he wonders if he should tell her that he did that, but then quickly decides that for the time being, he'll keep it to himself.

"He said he wanted to talk," Owen suddenly hears behind him. He turns around to Alicia's voice.

"Who, Will?"

She nods.

"When?"

"Election night. We kissed and he said we needed to talk. But I…," she swallows. "I had already made my decision. And the weeks after that were just…pure chaos."

"So…?" Owen asks, trying to understand what happened. "You never had the conversation?"

She shakes her head no.

"And there's still much to be said, isn't there?"

"Yes," she says quietly, averting her gaze. But he can tell the tears are coming back.

"Come here," Owen walks up to his sister and pulls her into a hug.

"What was I _thinking_?" She says frustrated, suppressing a sob. "That he would always be there? For what? To sit around and _wait_ for me? To be there whenever I decided I could allow myself to spend five minutes…" she sighs deeply and wipes away the tears from her cheeks.

"Being loved?"

"God Owen, you're not making this any better." She breaks away from their hug.

"It's the truth, isn't it?" he says and walks back to the stove. "But if that's how you feel…," he continues. "If this is how he makes you feel, if it's _that_ devastating…."

"Then what?"

He turns back around to face her. "Whatever happens between you and Will, you're in the wrong relationship."

* * *

The waiting room of the ICU is an uninviting, cold space. Alicia has taken a seat on one of the many white chairs which are lined up against the walls, waiting for a sign from the nurses that she's allowed to go in. She keeps trying to imagine what Will looks like in there and what to do or what to say when she'll be at his bedside, but her mind goes blank every time she tries. So instead, in an attempt to distract herself, she observes the people around her. In the corner, a woman is crying softly while talking on the phone. In front of her, a young couple is holding each other's hand, both silently staring to the floor. They must all be relatives or at least close friends of the patients in the ICU. It's making her feel out of place. She must be the only one waiting to see her competitor, former boss _and_ ex-lover. The ridicule of that almost makes her laugh.

A nurse looks around the door. "Visitor for Mr. Gardner?"

"Yes," Alicia quickly responds and gets up from her seat immediately.

The big semi-open space of the ICU is intimidating at first. Nothing more but blue curtains separate the majority of patients from each other, while others are given some more privacy in half-open rooms.

"He's right there, last bed on the left," the nurse points to a young woman sitting on a chair just next to one of the blue curtains. "His sister is with him right now," she explains.

"Should I wait?" Alicia asks doubtful.

"Two per patient at a time, you're fine," the nurse responds and turns around, leaving Alicia all on her own. No turning back now.

The woman in the chair looks up from her seat and gets up at the sight of Alicia.

"You're Will's sister," Alicia smiles and walks up to shake her hand.

"I am. Aubrey," she generously smiles in return. "And you're… Alicia right? Diane told me you'd be coming by this morning."

Alicia nods and looks at the woman in front of her. The friendly look on her face doesn't disguise the bags under her eyes. She looks exhausted. Aubrey's definitely not what she imagined Will's sister to be like. He didn't talk about them much, but somehow she didn't expected to be greeted so warmly. There's something about her presence that makes her feel more at ease immediately.

Aubrey walks around the curtain. "It looks scary at first, but you'll get used to it quickly," she gently tells her. Alicia hesitantly follows.

The sight of Will in the ICU bed is overwhelming to her. It's frightening almost, to see him like this. The tube going down his throat makes his face look different, and for a moment, she can barely tell that the man in the blue gown, covered in wires and tubes is actually him.

"How is he?"Alicia asks quietly.

"Good, I think," Aubrey answers. "According to the circumstances," she adds with a nervous laugh. "They're very concerned though. Feels like they're checking on him every minute."

The two of them fall silent for a moment. Alicia tries her hardest to find something to say, to keep the conversation going and more importantly, to hide the fact that she's about to break down in tears yet again. But that can't happen, not now. His sister is even keeping it together so she can't be the one to fall apart. But it's hard, because these tears don't seem to have any respect for the timing or the situation she's in. They're hot and desperate and simply want to flow and stream down her cheeks for hours on end. It's making her feel weak and unstable. But this is not the time. _Not here, get it together,_ she tells herself.

"You should sit down," she hears Aubrey say. "Here, take a seat," she pushes the chair towards her. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Oh, you don't have to leave," Alicia responds immediately. She already feels like she shouldn't be here, and now she's pushing his family away from his bedside.

"No, please. I need to make a few calls anyway," Aubrey insists. "I'll see you back in the waiting area, OK?"

And before she realises it, Aubrey walks off and she's all alone with Will. It's unsettling and comforting at the same time. Not really knowing what else to do, she sits down on the chair next to his bed and takes a moment to simply look at him. It's as if she's watching him sleep, a level of intimacy they never really reached. Their moments together in bed were brief, and, more often than not, in the middle of the day during office hours. But there had been a few times - thanks to Will's persistence - when they did spent a full night together. She had watched him sleep then, simply because she never knew how to fall asleep when she was with him. Not because she didn't feel good or safe with Will. God no, she loved every moment they spent together. But her thoughts and her endless concerns about how this was ever going to work out in the real world, they had kept her up. And they had allowed her to see that Will always sleeps on his stomach, with one hand above his head that holds on to his pillow.

Her eye falls on that same hand, now resting unnaturally above the sheets. Without thinking it through, she places her hand over his. His fingers are colder than she expected. The feeling of his skin against her has become almost an unfamiliar feeling, but it immediately brings back memories that she had tried so hard to push away, making her realize just how much she missed his touch.

She actually can't remember the last time she touched him. Maybe it was that one time in that bar, a couple weeks ago, when they had shaken hands. When he had told her that 'hate' was probably too strong. It was that conversation in particular that she had been repeating over and over in her head, because it's all that she had. It was the only semi positive moment between them that she could remember since she left, and that gave her some sort of hope that there was at least something left of the connection they used to have. But it was also the millionth time that she had said that the two of them would never make it work. And he… what did he say in return? That she was linking things together that he never did. So what did that mean, exactly? Was he trying to say that they still had options?

Alicia looks at how her hand is holding his and then looks up to his face, that isn't showing any sign of consciousness.

"Will, it's me," she says quietly. It feels odd to speak to him in this condition, but she doesn't really know what else to do.

As she looks at him, she suddenly feels that watching him like this is almost intrusive. After all, Will doesn't know she's here, or that she's touching him. And if he does know, if he is conscious in some way, it makes it even worse because he can't tell her to let go and to, please, leave him alone. That thought immediately makes Alicia pull away her hand from his.

"I realize that maybe you don't want me here," she continues. "Then, I'm sorry…" She bites her lip, unsure how to continue. Not knowing whether he hears her or not is making her doubt everything she wants to say.

"…I just," she tries. "I couldn't _not_ come. That seemed… worse."

She sighs, trying to collect her thoughts. But her emotions are all over the place, taking her back and forth between all the moments they ever shared together, the decisions she made because it seemed for the better and to yesterday, when everything in her life seemed so right and in control. But all of that seems to have taken place in a different, almost surreal, universe, where Will was fine and she had nothing to worry about. He isn't fine at all. He's fighting for his life. He might never wake up from this, he might bleed out or have a stroke and if any of that happens… Her bottom lip quivers and she closes her eyes, but she can already feel the first tear sliding down her cheek.

"Will, please," a sob escapes and she reaches for his hand again. "Hold on. You will fight this," she tells him. "You'll be back home, and back in court before you know it. Promise me that you will, _please,"_ she begs him. "You _have_ to." _This can't be the last time,_ she thinks to herself. _I can't say goodbye._

She licks the tears from her lips and tries to pull herself together. "And I'm sorry," she continues, whispering now. "Will, I'm _so_ sorry," her voice breaks. "For everything. You were right, you were always right. We should have talked and I…" _I can't do this without you,_ she thinks but doesn't dare to say it out loud.

"I need us to be okay," she whispers instead and wraps her fingers tightly around his. "And if you want nothing to do with me, I get that. But I'm here, if you want me to be. I promise."

She lets out a deep, shivery breath, wipes the tears off her face and tries to focus on the high, constant beep of the heart rate machine next to him. _As long as I hear this, he's safe and we'll be okay,_ she tells herself. _We'll be okay, we'll be okay._ Alicia doesn't know how long she sits there, whether it's seconds or minutes or hours, but she holds his hand in hers, listens to the hissing sound of the breathing machine and watches his chest go up and down with slow, steady movements.

* * *

"It's strange, huh," Aubrey says as they walk out of the waiting room together. "To see him like that."

"It is," Alicia nods. "How are you holding up?"

Aubrey shrugs. "I'm OK, I think. It's a bit of haze, really."

"You stayed here all night?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to not be there if you know, anything happened."

"I'm sure he's thankful you're here."

Aubrey lets out a sharp laugh. "That would be the first time."

"What, why?"

She grins. "I usually show up unannounced. Something Will does not enjoy _at all._ And if Sarah joins us as well, then he's _really_ not happy."

"I'm sure he's grateful you're with him now."

Aubrey smiles at that. "Coffee?" She points at the machine in the corner. "It's not great, but it's caffeinated. All that matters to me right now."

Alicia's first thought is to politely decline and head out, but she somehow finds comfort in being here with Will's sister and she can tell that she's in need of a conversation, too. So she says "sounds good,"and decides to stay a little longer.

"Can I ask you something?" Audrey asks as she hands her a paper cup with hot coffee that actually smells better than Alicia expected.

"Of course, anything."

"You and Will, your colleagues, right?"

"We used to be," Alicia nods. "I used to work at his firm."

"So, do you know… Have you met his girlfriend? Does he even _have_ a girlfriend?"

 _A girlfriend._ The question catches her off guard, but Aubrey's not supposed to notice that. So Alicia simply shakes her head. "I wouldn't know, I'm sorry," she answers, because it's the truth. She immediately regrets sitting next to his bed like that, being selfish enough to show up here this morning and most of all, holding his hand. It wasn't her hand to hold.

"It was just," Aubrey continues carelessly. "There was a woman here, about two hours ago. Isabel, I think?"

"Doesn't ring a bell," Alicia continues in casual mode. _He loves you,_ Diane told her last night. Maybe, somewhere, Will does still love her. But if he does, then it's the type of love that lingers, passively, without ever having to turn into anything. The type that will never ignite because it carries too many consequences and simply doesn't make your life any better. Because you have moved on. _Will has moved on,_ she tells herself. How on earth did she completely forget about that possibility when she was with him just now?

"OK, well," Aubrey clearly doesn't sense the impact that her questions have on Alicia. "At least she doesn't have the keys to his apartment so it can't be _that_ serious," Aubrey happily continues. "But she seemed so _young._ Like younger than me young, you know?"

Alicia's relieved that she's able to laugh at that. "What can I say, he's a popular man. You know he was listed as Chicago's 16th most eligible bachelor, right?"

" _What_?"Aubrey asks stunned and then starts laughing. "You're kidding me."

"Nope. I'm serious."

"God, he never tells us anything," she grins. The lightheartedness of the conversation is a welcome break from all the worry and sadness for the both of them. "Are you and Will good friends?"

 _Great question,_ Alicia thinks to herself. And if Aubrey's going to continue asking those, she isn't quite sure how to get through all of them.

"I've known him for a long time," she decides to reply. She realises it's somewhat avoiding, but it's also very much the truth.

"Where did you meet?"

"Georgetown. We went to law school together."

"Wow," Aubrey replies stunned. "What was he like back then?"

" _Very_ popular," she smiles in response, her mind floating away to all those parties, classes, outings with friends… No matter what they were up to, or in which group of people she was in, she would always hope to see Will. She didn't even have to talk to him, just being near him was enough, knowing they were sharing the same experiences. It's as if she was, and maybe will always be, programmed to function best with him around. She listened better when they sat next to each other in class. She felt more confident when they practiced a defence together, and she simply liked herself more when with Will near her. He really did bring out the best in her, and she realises now that that has never really changed. Deep down, she always knew that Will felt the same way. _I like myself around you,_ he had told her after beer and pizza in his office. And the reason why she so vividly remembers him saying that, is because she was thinking exactly the same thing in that very moment, but didn't have the guts to tell him.

"Such a cool kid," Aubrey grins.

"He was," Alicia nods. "And don't forget, at the top of his class, too."

"Ugh, they're the worst kind," she jokes.

Alicia smiles silently. "And yet, no one liked him less for it." As she says that, she knows it's not the entire truth. Everyone has their negative sides and Will definitely has them, too. He knew he was going to be a good lawyer and it brought a certain arrogance out in him that wasn't always appreciated. And he could get frustrated, angry almost, when things didn't go his way. But it didn't weigh up to his charm and fun, carefree character that had taught her not to constantly worry about what other people thought of her.

"Did you stay in touch?"

"Oh no, we didn't speak for years."

"Yeah, Will is not good in keeping in touch with people."

"No," Alicia corrects her. "It wasn't his fault. I had two children, I focused on my husband, my family. I… It's life. Life happened."

"So how did you two get back in touch then?"

"Accidentally," and it makes Alicia smile when she realises that. "Bumped into each other in the elevator of a law firm. I was in _desperate_ need for a job and… he hired me. He threw me a lifeline, really."

"God," Aubrey laughs. "He told me so many times how he runs this three hundred employee firm. It always sounded so _boring_ to me. I think it's the first time I realize he can actually hire people."

"He certainly can. And fire them, too," Alicia can't help to add with a wry smile.

Aubrey smirks at that. "That is crazy to me. I always wanted him to become a musician. I'm still trying to persuade him to start a band with me. But he'll never give up work."

"Who knows. Maybe when all of this is over, he'll want a completely different life."

"Yeah," Aubrey responds dryly, her smile slowly disappearing from his face. "I still can't believe this is real. He's my protective brother, you know? I've never seen him like this."

"I'm so sorry," Alicia sighs. "Will is…" She doesn't know how to continue and stops her sentence. "Sorry, I'm not sure what I wanted to say. I should get going," she says instead and gets up from her seat.

"Should we let you if…" Aubrey stops her sentence, and they both know why. She swallows hard. "You know, if anything… changes?"

"Oh, I don't want to be any trouble. Diane will keep me up to date, don't worry about it."

"All right," Audrey mumbles flatly, and Alicia can tell that the reality of the situation is taking hold of her again.

"Hang in there," she tells her, placing her hand on Aubrey's shoulder as she does.

Aubrey offers her a weak smile in return that doesn't hide the sadness in her eyes. There's something about the vulnerable way she looks at her that finally brings her to say what she couldn't just a minute ago.

"Your brother," Alicia says and takes a deep breath before she continues. "He means a lot to me," and her voice breaks as she says that. The tears spring back in her eyes, but she somehow manages to push a smile over her lips. It's one of the scariest, and most honest, things she has said in a long time.

"Thank you," Aubrey whispers back, a little taken aback. Alicia nods, gently squeezes her shoulder before she lets go and then turns around, wiping the tears off her cheeks as she heads for the elevator.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think (and what you'd like to see in future chapters!)
> 
> Preview for part III: Will starts the difficult road to recovery...


	4. Part III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A post 5x15 story where Will (of course) survives the shooting. This story explores the aftermath of that, where Alicia quickly realises what is most important in her life, but Will struggles with the difficult road to recovery.

**The Darkest Hour**

**Part III**

_"What can I say? I'm survivin'..."_

Bastille - Surviving

For Will, the past four days are non-existent. He vividly remembers being in court, turning around at the sound of gunshots and staring into the frantic eyes of Jeffrey, before being shot to the ground himself. He also - vaguely - remembers Kalinda calling for him, but after that, there's nothing. He doesn't know that Diane was there while the nurses got him installed in the ICU, or that Aubrey stayed with him all night, getting no sleep, during those first 24 hours, or how Sarah burst into tears when she saw him for the first time. And he certainly doesn't remember the fact that Alicia came to see him, held his hand and told him that she was sorry, so very sorry, for everything that happened between them. On the contrary, Will only remembers, if he really tried to, that he spoke to Alicia a couple of days ago, when she had warned him that Jeffrey's parents had called her. To him, there's nothing after that. While in the mean time, Alicia's world has been turned upside down, she has cried more times than she can count, and she's not been able to focus on anything other than Will and what had happened to him, much to Peter's frustration.

She came home late that day. After visiting Will, she went straight to work and stayed as late as she could, reluctant to go back home and knowing she'd have to pretend that she wasn't absolutely shattered and heart broken by what had happened to Will. She also knew that Peter would be able to tell regardless. The fact that she stayed with Owen that first night spoke volumes, too. So in the end, she did go home. Things stayed civil that evening, partly because Grace was home. Peter had hugged her, asked her if she was okay, she mumbled an _'I don't know',_ and then they went to bed. Peter fell asleep quickly, but she stayed awake for hours, her mind going back again and again to Will in that ICU-bed, not knowing whether he was still doing good enough and if the machines around him were still reassuringly beeping steadily.

She barely slept that night and things didn't get much better the next day. She was outright distracted, had a hard time focusing on her work, went home early and opened up a bottle of wine at four, which was half empty thirty minutes later. When Peter came home that evening, he could immediately tell that her eyelids were swollen from all the crying. The mood became tense as soon as he closed the door behind him. And with Grace being at a friend's house, she felt little incentive to hold back and pretend everything was all right. Because she wasn't.

Or maybe it was the other way around. Maybe she finally was doing okay. Maybe she could finally think clearly about what mattered most, about how she felt and how she wanted to live her life. It was almost as if some sort of fog had been clouding her mind for the past five years and suddenly disappeared. Regardless of what - ever - would happen to Will, Owen was right. She was in the wrong relationship.

And that evening, when Peter started telling her that she was a mess, that she was not supposed to be this affected by what had happened to her former boss, she yelled at him that he was right. That she also realised that it meant more to her than that. He yelled back, that she then needed to get a grip, and then things really escalated. She yelled - screamed, almost - that she didn't need to get a grip, that everything was perfectly clear to her and that she now realised this relationship was a lie and had ended years ago. And after a good ten minutes of yelling and slamming doors, they had both - quickly and calmly - come to terms with the fact that their relationship indeed needed to end. Now that didn't mean that they would publicly separate, so what followed was a brief, but necessary negotiation about the conditions of this conclusion. It came down to the both of them being able to do whatever they wanted, but that no one else was supposed to know, with the exception of Eli. Alicia would still be the governors' wife, for now anyway, simply because it was a position she was holding, a formality that came with responsibilities, and advantages of which she benefited herself. But there was nothing more to it than that, not anymore.

Now here's the difficult part. Will doesn't know about any of this. His first memory after waking up was this odd, full feeling in his throat caused by the breathing tube that, thankfully, he was allowed to cough up almost immediately. The second memory was him being wheeled out of the intensive care unit into a regular room, and he assumed that meant good news but he'd been too tired, too out of it, to ask the doctors any questions. He could hear his sisters talk to the nurses and doctors passing by, and he tried to listen, but he didn't have to energy to engage. He isn't sure how many days have passed since all of that, but he's finally able to stay awake for longer stretches of time, allowing him to have full conversations with his sisters (who have barely left his side as far as he can tell, and he's thankful for that). It also meant that he had to talk to the police and, to his frustration, a social worker, who was trying to convince him that he should consider therapy to process what had happened. He had decided he didn't need any of that. The issue wasn't going to be that he got shot, he was processing that just fine on his own, but it was the fact that he wasn't back on his feet just yet, and that his surgeon told him yesterday that he should expect to need at least a year before he'd be fully recovered. Now, clearly the indication of a _year_ was for people who didn't want to get better, Will thought. People who liked to wallow in their pain and sadness and had no ambition to get back out in the world. It should take him less, he decided for himself, and he hopes to be back in the firm before the end of the month. He will later learn that recovering from something like this, isn't solely about willpower, but about patience and acceptance, too.

Now, he's in his hospital bed, sitting up and staring at the small TV in the corner when Aubrey walks in.

"It's awful how popular you are," she says, holding a vase with yet another bouquet of flowers. "The nurses told me they're running out of vases," she adds and tries to find a spot to put them, which is becoming increasingly difficult.

"Clients don't count," Will responds and tries to sit up as straight as he can, but his muscles are still much weaker than he'd like hem to be.

"I thought you live for your clients," Sarah says from the corner of the room, not looking up from the laptop she's working on.

"I almost didn't," he jokes and Aubrey throws him a quick look.

"That's terrible," Sarah says.

"Sorry," he grins and reaches for the cup of water on the bedside table. "Who sent them?"

"Florrick, Agos and Associates," Aubrey reads. "Oh, that's so nice of her," she adds, much to Will's surprise.

"What?"

"Of Alicia," she continues. "You could have told me earlier you were friends with the wife of the governor of Chicago. I had no idea, Sarah told me afterwards."

"Afterwards of what?"

"After she was here. God, you're popular with woman. First Diane and Kalinda, then Isabel,-"

"Who apparently is fifteen," Sarah chimes in.

Will sighs. "She isn't."

"Nooo, I'd say sixteen," Aubrey jokes.

"Isabel was here, too?" Will asks, immediately regretting joining in a conversation he really doesn't want to have, and simultaneously wondering if he actually heard Aubrey say that Alicia was here, at the hospital.

"Twice," Aubrey nods. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"Ah…," Will starts but doesn't know how to continue. He realises she didn't cross his mind once these past days, which probably says enough. "It was never that serious," he decides to say.

"Told you," Aubrey says to Sarah and then turns back to Will. "Though I'm pretty sure she sees that differently." Aubrey sits down on his bedside. "Maybe you should call her."

"Yeah," he nods. "I should." He tries to think of a way to divert the conversation, but he finds himself staring at the flowers from Florrick Agos, and somehow, it makes him lost for words. For the past couple of days, his thoughts had been scattered and shallow, going back and forth between what happened in that court room to the most random other things, like that he hadn't cancelled his housekeeper from coming in and that his laptop was still in his office at the firm. And now, those flowers seem to ignite something within him, as if they're calling on feelings and emotions that had been muted within the four walls of this hospital room, up until now.

"They're really nice," Aubrey says as she catches Will staring at them. "I like her a lot."

"Alicia? So she was here?" He can't help to ask for confirmation, simply because it seems unlikely to him.

"Yes," she answers as if it should be obvious. "I told you that back in the ICU."

"I don't remember."

"Well, she came to see you and she was very kind to me. She told me you two have been friends ever since Georgetown."

 _So she really was here,_ he thinks to himself, without really being able to decide how he feels about that just yet.

"Georgetown?" Sarah joins the conversation again. "How come we don't know about her?"

"When was this?" Will asks, ignoring Sarah's commentary.

"The morning after your surgery. She was so worried about you Willy, you should really let her know you're doing better."

Will swallows hard as he tries to process what Aubrey is saying. He tries to hide the fact that he's… surprised, is that it? Is he surprised that she was here? A part of him is, but there's also a part of him that thinks it makes perfect sense. He would do the same thing, right? Would he? No, no, Peter would be there, her children… There would be no room for him. Or would he ignore that and just make sure to be with her, if her injuries were as serious as this? Will does realize, although it's hard to actually comprehend, that he almost lost his life, so he knows that the boundaries and rules the two of them had so carefully built might have been erased by that fact, but he doesn't know for sure.

"What did you two talk about?" He asks, hoping to find out more.

"Well, about Georgetown and that you met again years later, and that you offered her a job, right?"

"Right," he nods slowly as the memories of all that ever happened between them suddenly start clouding his mind.

"Wait, did something happen between you two? You have that sad puppy look in your eyes."

He rolls his eyes at that and doesn't say anything in return.

"I think you should call her," Aubrey continues.

He shakes his head and leans back down in his bed. He doesn't want to do this now. Because he's too tired, but also because he doesn't know what to make of all this. He wishes he knows what it was like, when she was here. What she was thinking, and what she said. It's uncomfortable too, having to imagine what someone said to you, if she said anything at all, when you were in a coma. He thinks it makes him feel better somehow, knowing she was here, but it also brings up frustrations and emotions that he had carefully locked up, because they weren't supposed to reappear and because it was a closed chapter that needed no reconsideration.

"You two have a history. I can tell," Aubrey keeps pushing. "I knew it. Call her, talk to her. You really should."

"Now you're rooting for a woman you barely know?" Will snaps, sounding more annoyed than he intended. He tries to distract himself by trying to make a fist with his left hand, which is much more difficult than he wants it to be. Nerve damage, the surgeon had told him yesterday. Something that might disappear completely, but could also linger on for years to come. A physiotherapist had come by and gave him exercises. He's supposed to do each one for ten reps, three times a day. He had been doing them twenty, thirty reps at a time, determined to recover quicker than anyone else. For some reason, it brought out a competitive side in him, and he felt like he had no time to lose.

"Then tell me what happened," Aubrey tries, more careful this time.

He gives her a long look, debating if he wants to tell her what happened. He's always successfully managed to keep his sisters out of his private life, but he also knows that him getting shot and the two of them staying by his bedside have changed things, and that he at least owes her some honesty at this point in time.

"We've had an affair," he says bluntly, even though the word affair doesn't do it justice and hurts to say out loud. "Then we broke it off." Not the entire truth, but close enough.

"And…?"

"Then she decided to leave my firm to start her own and stole my top clients. That's what happened."

"I'm sure that's not the whole story."

"For now it is."

"You know, you mean a lot to her," Aubrey tries again. "Just saying."

That makes Will look up to her. "She said that?"

"Yes, she said that," Aubrey responds, rolling her eyes. "Is that a surprise to you?"

He thinks about how to answer that one for a moment. "I don't know," he replies, surprising himself with his honesty. "Maybe."

* * *

Later that evening, Will had convinced both his sisters that they should go out and have dinner together. He's doing good, and if all goes well, he'll be discharged tomorrow morning. He's eager to leave the hospital, but also dreading what's to come. The idea of sitting around at home, waiting to get better and stronger in order to get back to work is not at all appealing to him. And even though he knows that he should take the time to process what happened, he also doubts whether or not that's something that would work for him. He isn't someone who tends to reflect on things, not when its without a clear goal or purpose. And he knows that if he starts overthinking too much, his thoughts tend to become dark quickly. So he's convinced he'll be better off by simply going back to work and returning to his normal life as quickly as possible.

He's holding his phone in his hand. There are hundreds of unread messages, but he can't bring himself to read all of them. Instead, he scrolls through his contacts and finally lands on 'Alicia' (he never added her last name, for several reasons). It moves him deeply that she came by. The fact that she sat by his bedside and he didn't know about it is, surprisingly enough, not as uncomfortable as he initially thought. On the contrary, it's somehow comforting to know that she was there, and he's thankful that she had the guts to do so. He knows her well enough to be able to tell that it wasn't an easy decision for her. But still, he's not really sure how to interpret the gesture. Either way, Aubrey was right telling him he needed to call her, so he finally lets his thumb hit 'call' and waits for her to pick up.

"Hi, this is Alicia?" The way she answers tells him she's unsure who she's speaking to.

"Hi, it's me, Will," he simply answers and pauses for a moment, giving her the time to realize that it in fact is him on the other end of the line.

"Will?" he hears her catch her breath. "Oh my God, hi," she stumbles. "I.. sorry, I know it's your number, I just thought…"

"That it would be my sister?"

"Yes," he hears her smile.

"I heard you two met."

"We did." Her voice tells him she's still in disbelief. "So, how… how are you?"

"Perfect," he grins.

"Will…"

"I'm doing better than when you saw me last," he decides to say. "Seriously, I'm doing okay," he adds and stares at his left hand, trying to stretch his fingers a couple times, but nothing much is happening.

"Wow," she responds and a brief silence falls between the two of them. But it's a good one, one that could last forever.

"I heard you came by to see me in the ICU."

"Yes," she answers softly. "I did. I… felt like I had to. I'm sorry if that's not what you wanted but-"

"Alicia," he gently interrupts her. "Thank you. For coming by. And for sending those flowers, too."

A second silence falls. He can't help but imagine seeing her face. Her dark brown eyes, her gentle features and generous smile. And he starts thinking about what it would be like if she was here with him. She'd be sitting on the edge of the bed, stroking his hair, leaning against his chest. Gently telling him to be patient by putting her hand over his weak left hand, without saying a word. The thought alone brings tears to his eyes, and he somehow can tell that she's tearing up as well, although it could also be his imagination.

"You're still here," she says out of the blue, almost as if she needs to tell herself that this conversation is real and actually happening. And those words make him even more emotional, because it's the first time that it hits him, that it really hits him, that he almost died, that people thought he died, that Alicia thought he died, and that he survived a gunshot wound that could have been deadly.

"I'm still here," he says back to her, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Another brief silence.

"You should get some rest," she then says, with a soft and caring voice, one he hasn't heard in a long time. "But thank you, for calling. It's… it's really good to hear your voice."

He smiles at that. "Yeah, I'm gonna get some sleep. Have a good night. we'll talk soon," he says and then hangs up. He leans back in his pillow, closes his eyes and falls asleep instantly.

It's not until the next morning that he realises he never called Isabel.

* * *

He doesn't remember ever hugging Kalinda. Their relationship has always had unspoken, but very clearly defined, boundaries. But when she stood in his doorway this evening and he saw the amazement and relief in her eyes, it made him emotional as well. So without really thinking about it, he had leaned in and pulled her into a hug.

Aubrey and Sarah weren't eager to leave him alone after bringing him home this morning, but after he showed them that he could actually take care of himself (which, for now, consisted of him moving himself from his bed to his couch, turning on the tv, holding his phone and drinking some water), they finally agreed, but not before they had stocked his fridge with food he wasn't really interested in and putting a ridiculous amount of oranges in his fruit bowl. Aubrey did negotiate that she'd be back next weekend. He had reluctantly agreed, even though deep down he was relieved she offered it, knowing there was something to look forward to. And it felt good to be home again, being able to enjoy the peace and quiet of his apartment after the restlessness of the hospital.

But after a couple of hours, he had already texted Kalinda and asked her to come by, hoping to find some distraction from the pain in his neck and the tingling, numb feeling in his left arm. So the two of them were sitting in his living room. He on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table, and Kalinda sitting on his right on one of the big chairs, pouring them both a glass of whisky.

"You _really_ want to?" She asks looking up to him, before she pours the second glass.

"No one told me I shouldn't."

"Yeah, but…"

"Kalinda, please. I'm fine."

"If you say so," she says and then fills his glass. "There you go," she slides it over the table towards him. "So, what's it like, being back home?"

"Quiet."

"Good quiet or bad quiet?"

"Good, for now. Shouldn't last too long."

"Well, I wouldn't expect to be back at work next week."

He shrugs reluctantly. "We'll see about that."

"Will. Don't be stupid."

He doesn't respond to that and just drinks his whisky. "You remember the last conversation we had?"

"I do."

"Tell me, are you still one of my employees?"

Her lips curl into a small smile. "Yes, I am."

"Good," he nods approvingly. "So I was right."

She throws him a look. "That's unfair."

"Why?"

"Are we not going to talk about how you almost got _killed_? You know I thought you died, right?"

Her saying that out loud makes a shiver run down his spine. He'd better get used to people saying that, he realises, because she wasn't the only one. "You've never been much of an optimist though," he grins.

She rolls her eyes at that. "I basically saw you bleeding out. You got lucky. The doctors must have told you that."

"They did," he nods. "Repeatedly. And so did Diane and my sisters and everyone else I've talked to. I know what happened, K. I don't need a lecture."

Kalinda stays silent, observing her friend, who looks weaker than he ever has. He clearly lost weight and there's something in his eyes that is new, a darkness she's rarely seen, one that she recognises from herself but didn't ever expect to see in his pupils.

"Don't give me that look," he tells her. "I don't need anyone to feel sorry for me, I'm not going to dwell in pity, I'll be fine, really." He pauses to drink his whisky. "Just want to get back to work."

Kalinda gets the hint and tries to divert the conversation a little. "So, you're not craving some… _big change?_ Travel the world, quit your job, move country?" She asks, half serious and half joking to lighten the mood a little.

Will smirks. "You think I should?"

"No. But I think you're supposed to stay that it changed how you look at life. That you live life by the day now."

He throws her a sceptical look.

"Carpe diem," she adds sarcastically and can't help but laugh at how ridiculous that sounds, coming from her.

"That is awful," Will laughs. "And such bullshit. Seriously, I never understood how that works. I mean, what if you have a _really_ bad day?"

"I think you're not supposed to rationalise it."

"Everything's temporary," he shrugs. "And we all die someday."

"God, you really light up a room," Kalinda says, making Will laugh again/

She looks back at him without saying a word, drinks her whisky and contemplates if she should say what she's about to say, but she decides to try and see how he will respond.

"I went down to the police station that same day," she carefully starts.

He looks straight at her, suddenly with a grim frown on his face. "To do what?"

She swallows before she continues. "Talk to Jeffrey."

He raises a brow, pursing his lips. The memories of what happened in the courthouse that day start flashing through his mind, again, and its slowly making him realize that maybe this is something he still needs to process.

"If you don't want to talk about it, I understand."

Will hardly responds, so she decides to continue.

"I barely talked to him. His, well, new lawyer was there."

"Who?"

"Alma Hoff. Played the insanity card."

"Of course she did."

"Uncontrollable rage by reason of insanity, I think were her exact words."

Will scoffs at first. "Well, you know what, she's probably right," he then adds.

"Did the police talk to you yet?"

"Yesterday. Told them what I know."

"If you want me to use my contacts there, find out where they stand, tell me."

"No, thanks. I want to work, get back into a routine, leave this behind."

"This is not gonna disappear in a few weeks."

"What this?" He gestures at the bandages on his neck. "I'm aware."

"The case, too."

"I know," Will nods and finishes his whisky, not yet aware that he's creating a habit that will be difficult to shake off in the weeks to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know if you're still reading this, and if you have any requests/ideas for future chapters..!
> 
> Preview for part IV: Despite thinking he'll be able to get back to words in a matter of days, Will is confronted with a body - and to his frustration also a mind - that isn't able to adapt as quickly as he had planned, leading him to decisions he might regret later o

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. So, what do you think? Please let me know in the reviews!
> 
> Preview for part I: Diane & Kalinda in the hospital while Will's being rushed into surgery and Alicia finding out what happened. What will she do?


End file.
